Trousers
by coffee666
Summary: Anne tries out some bold new fashion. She never would have expected Gilbert's reaction.


**A/N: warning for kinda adult content! **

It started with Aunt Jo's weekly dinners.

The first few times Anne attended, she wore her nicest dress. The dark blue one Marilla made was a personal favorite, it almost made wearing a corset worth it.

She'd eat the finest foods of roast and cake, drink the smallest amounts of champagne she allotted herself—it helped that it was served in tiny glasses—and she would forget the stress of college for a four hours every Sunday night.

But just the simple mistake of spilling her drink had changed everything.

She and Cole had been listening to Diana play the piano after dinner. It was such a contrast to the elegant classical stuff her mother forced her to play. College Diana's taste was growing wilder by the minute, and as her music deviated, Anne found she loved it. And she wasn't the only one.

Dancing with Cole, faster than a waltz, her hair coming loose from its pins and her face reddening as they laughed. Her hands slipped from his as she doubled over.

Rollings then came by with tray or refills, and Anne stumbled right into him.

Her mind, fogged from it all, had instantly sobered. She gasped and stared wide-eyed at the mess she'd made of the carpet, of Rollings' suit, or _herself._

"Never mind, Dear!" Jo's voice was clear as Diana had stopped playing at the sound of the crash. "Don't you worry, it's just a little spill. Cole, help her get cleaned up."

But those gently caring words hadn't stopped tears rising to her eyes. She'd sat in a defeated slump on a guest bed in her just slip and corset as Cole scrubbed at her dress in the bathroom.

"Ta-da!" He leaned around the screen partition, holding out the dress. Anne wiped her bleary eyes on the back of her hand and reached for it.

The front was still soaked, but this time in water. She couldn't see any champagne at all. She resisted the urge to hug him, reminding herself of the state of undress she was in.

"Thank you! You're a lifesaver!" She breathed.

"Hold on, I can get you something to change into for now while it dries."

Anne wasn't sure what she expected, but it was not trousers and a shirt. Still, she only allowed herself a moment's surprise before putting it on. She could hear Diana and Jo still downstairs, and the last thing she wanted was for the festivities to stop on her account.

It was not her first time wearing pants, but she'd grown in the years since her foray into boyhood for the Christmas panto.

She looked more like Ms. Stacy than she'd expected, and as she rolled her sleeves up and eyed herself in the full length mirror, she found she liked what she saw.

She wore Cole's trousers back to Josephine's the next week too, with the expectation that her dress would be ready and she'd change and make an exchange. She'd feel much better with it back in her procession, and she'd take much more caution to make sure nothing happened to it.

But then Rollings presented her with the dress press-folded and wrapped in paper and string. She decided to leave it and just take it back to the boarding house that way. No sense in undoing Rolling's hard work.

Cole didn't mind that she wasn't giving his pants back right away. He actually laughed when she sheepishly suggest she keep them for another week.

"You can have them! I never wear those anymore. I've gotten too tall for them, and…check the pockets!"

Anne put her hands in the pockets and felt what he meant—a hole twice the size of a coin was in the right pocket.

As for the length, Anne found that with two small rolls of the cuffs, they fit just right.

It was with an air of confidence that she walked back to the boarding house that night, dress tucked under one arm, the other looped with Diana's. No one's look meant a thing to her, not even Josie's astonishment when she arrived in the foyer.

"What are you wearing?" Josie asked, eyes wide. Anne fought the blush to her face and just smiled.

"Pants. You know, women wear pants all the time in Europe."

"Really?" Josie said in mild interest. Anne nodded, leaving her friend to her thoughts.

That night, after changing into a nightgown, Anne sat carefully on the floor in her room. As Diana studied by the lamplight, Anne sewed. It took only a few minutes to patch up the pocket.

It remained that way the rest of the year. Josephine's dinner parties were supposed to be how she and Diana relaxed after a week of school work, so there was no reason why Anne would wear something she couldn't fully relax in.

Trousers were perfect for dancing, and sans the restriction of corset under the old button shirt Cole had thrown in, Anne truly felt free those Sunday nights.

It extended, then. Just gradually. Anne could not just sit by and let Lilly wait on her all the time, so Anne donned her pants when it was time to do chores. It was just easier that way.

They kept her warm in the winter in the way a dress never did, especially with stockings and bloomers on underneath.

Anne laughed and nearly cried when she opened her Christmas present from Cole the night before leaving for Green Gables for holiday break and finding a second pair.

"Never been worn." Cole assured her. "And I tried to get them tailored so you won't have to roll them up."

And she didn't have to.

Yet, it her trousers remained folded in the bottom of her trunk when she went home for the holidays. It never seemed a good time to break them out.

It wasn't until a few months later, when spring break came, that Anne packed them with purpose. She wore a dress, corset, and her hair pinned up on the train ride home. After a day of a thousand hugs for Matthew, Marilla, Anne was eager to get back into the swing of chores.

She truly missed barn chores.

Gilbert's Spring break from the University of Toronto was starting the same day as Anne's, but he wouldn't be back in Avonlea until late. Anne missed him with everything in her heart, but she was not going to pine. She was going to work, until then.

In her old bedroom, Anne's heart fluttered with the slight nerves of her family's reaction as she got undressed. She took off her dress, letting it pool at her feet. The corset was next, and she took several deep breaths as if she'd been deprived.

After her slip, Anne reached for one of her shirts. Soft and white, with all-new buttons after she'd replaced them. It went on, heart pounded as she buttoned it.

Her trousers went next, brown and with a matching belt. After taking down the pins in her hair and braiding it in her classic way, she had only a few moments to roll up her sleeves and admire her reflection before Marilla was calling.

"Anne?"

"Coming!" Anne laced up her boots and ran downstairs.

"Oh—what in the world?" Marilla's reaction was what Anne had expected. Jerry's, was not.

"Are you trying to be a boy again?" Jerry asked. There was no hint of judgment now, much to Anne's surprise, just genuine curiosity.

"No, actually." Anne put her hands on her hips. "I'm just being me."

"Anne…" Marilla looked in inner turmoil on what to say.

"It's the twentieth century, Marilla." Anne pointed out.

"She's got a point…" Matthew muttered softly. Anne beamed at him.

It was with new confidence that Anne followed Jerry and Matthew outside.

They took the fields while Anne took the barn. Crossing the yard, she once again took in all she'd missed while in the city. Over Christmas, everything had been heavily coated in snow. And while it was a gorgeous white, she missed the vibrant green and fresh air.

"Hello." Anne entered the barn and spent time stroking the flanks and muzzles of the cows and horses. She liked to think that they missed her while she was gone.

She noted that men's clothes seemed more resilient. She was constantly worried not to rip her skirts or stain them back in the day, but her pants seemed much more durable. Any mud she got on them seemed to come off with a few scrubs of her hand.

Baling hay was last, and Anne was lazy with it. The setting sun filtered through the slats in the roof, and Anne slowed her work, stopping to watch the light shine golden on the piles of straw.

She used to lay here, she recalled with a smile. With a good book, or just for a quiet spot to think.

Anne rested the pitchfork back against a pillar, pausing to admire the reforming calluses on her skin, before climbing up to the loft. With all the clean hay, _this _was the primal resting spot.

Maybe she'd take a break now. She was practically finished anyways, and maybe when she was done, it'd be time for her to go meet Gilbert's train. She couldn't rest too long, though. She'd need time to change back into a dress.

Anne laid back against the bale of hay, smirking as she felt it cling into her hair and on her shirt. She let her legs dangle over the edge of the loft and closed her eyes.

"Jerry?"

Anne opened her eyes. In the fogginess of her sleepy mind, she registered a few things.

One, it was darker and she was colder. And two, that voice was not one she yet expected, especially in her current state. She could feel straw stuck in the collar of her shirt and poking her neck.

"Jerry, have you seen Anne?" Gilbert asked. "I caught Mr. Cuthbert in the yard, and he said she was around."

Jerry… Anne pulled her legs up from hanging over the edge of the loft and scooted back, hugging them to her chest as she scrambled to brush hay from her hair.

He thought she was Jerry. It was actually amusing and Anne found herself biting back laughter as she felt tugs on her heartstrings. Just the sound of his voice did that to her, reminded her how deeply she missed him.

And of course, leave it to Gilbert to find a way onto an earlier train so he could see her as soon as possible.

Holding in laughter, Anne peered over the edge of the loft, a sharp inhale of dusty barn air. An actual gasp of surprise at the sight of him.

The last of the golden twilight light hit him through the windows, and even surrounded by dirt and mud, he was beautiful to her.

He was still wearing whatever he'd traveled in, sans jacket. Anne imagined he'd dropped it off at home along with his bags. He reached up to run a hand through his wind-tousled curls as if he feared they were a bit too neat despite all the travelling.

She couldn't stand it anymore.

Only year of perfecting it allowed Anne to swing her legs over the edge of the loft and jump down, landing on her feet in time to putting on her best boy voice, nice and deep.

"Looking for someone?"

Gilbert jumped in surprise, stepping back half a step before realizing it was her. Still, his surprise did not fade. His eyes seemed to roam over her in almost shock.

"She didn't expect you to arrive so soon." Anne kept her voice low, hoping her false bravado would hide the rising blush on her cheeks as she stepped closer to him. "In fact, she's just left to meet your train. So, there is no Anne here."

Gilbert was watching her with an unreadable expression, and it took everything for Anne not to laugh, just as she was sure he was trying not to. Anne took one of her braids and held it across her face under her nose, mimicking a mustache.

"It's just me… the new farm boy. I'm all alone. Do you want to help me with my chores?"

She stepped closer to him, the toes of their boots touching. He was so wonderfully handsome that Anne didn't fight the heat she felt, embracing it by smiling up at him.

The impassive look on Gilbert's face then changed. Anne could see him blushing now, it spreading down his neck and up to his ears. It was an almost unprecedented amount of flustered.

"Anne—" Gilbert's voice held just enough gravel that Anne broke her stride.

"I—I was just kidding around!" She dropped her braid, where it landed back onto her shoulder.

He smirked then, the tension he seemed to be holding now ebbing away. Anne breathed out her own sigh of relief, though the warmth she felt only grew when he looked up at her.

That unreadable thing was still in his eyes, dark and almost immobilizing. Her heart pounded, more than just usual flutters of being with him.

"Anne, you're… wearing pants." His eyes seemed to roam over her and Anne felt the hairs on the back of her neck bristle against the collar of her shirt.

"It's a new century." She managed in defense, hands going to her hips once more. She fought the nervousness under his gaze, though she wasn't sure why it was so strong. "Women wear pants in Europe, you know."

"Do they?" This time, it was Gilbert who stepped closer to her.

Anne not prepared for any sort of reaction from him, because she had not planned for him to see her like this. She supposed that deep down, she was worried he'd prefer her in a dress, and she was fine with complying with that.

She had not prepared for anything else. For how much he actually seemed to like seeing her in trousers.

She recognized that look in his eyes now. She'd glimpsed it a few times, only ever when they were alone. Just before their deepest kisses or when she lifted her head off of his shoulder after dancing.

They were alone now, and it was hunger.

She allowed herself to be pulled into his arms now, the warmth and safety something she'd been craving since the last time she experienced it.

He kissed her with such passion that Anne felt as if it were taking her mind a moment to catch up, to realize one of her many fantasies was a rapidly-happening reality. But the fantasy didn't end there.

The way he cupped her face, his fingers brushing over her jaw and one hand on her back were all things she longed for, though now she could barely keep up.

Anne's arms went around his neck, holding him close, her fingers carding through the dark curls of his hair. She felt straw crunch lightly under her boots as she realized he was walking her backwards.

She slumped back against a wooden pillar just as her knees threatened to give way under the pounding of her heart. Their kiss broke long enough for Anne to take desperate gasps of air before Gilbert kissed her again.

"Anne?"

Gilbert pulled back from her, Anne still breathing heavy as she glanced towards the barn door, Matthew somewhere on the other side.

"Coming!" Anne turned back to him, flashing an apologetic smile. "I have to finish chores before supper."

"Right." He seemed to be, in a way, getting a hold of himself. The color faded from his face, though the hungry look in his seemed to linger.

"I really missed you." She let her hands slip into his, feeling the warmth of him squeezing hers back.

"I missed you, Anne." He smiled at her. "So much."

"We're still on for tomorrow? Picnic?" She had purposely done everything to ensure they'd have a full day of the break to spend with only each other and it was up to him to do the same thing on his end.

"Of course." He leaned down, his forehead resting against her.

"Good."

She kissed him again before starting towards the door. The whirlwind of their reunion played again in her mind and she blinked in realization, glancing at him from over her shoulder.

"You'd like me to wear pants again on our date tomorrow, wouldn't you?" She asked, pleased be his reaction of a blush she could see despite the dimming lights. "And the voice…do you want me to do the voice too?"

"Anne…" Gilbert started, but then just laughed.

Anne laughed too, feeling in high spirits and an strange warmth in her chest as she started back towards the house.

Lingering flickers of warmth from their kiss seemed to glow in Anne's mind for the rest of the evening. She found herself occasionally drifting, a blush and half-smile on her face as she recalled the passion in which he kissed her.

Again, she'd been teasing when she suggested it was the pants. She knew it was also the fact that they hadn't seen each other in ages. Of course he would have kissed her like that had she worn a dress to meet him at the train station. Well, maybe not _at _the station. But it couldn't have just been the pants.

That didn't stop the fluttering in her heart the next morning as she got dressed.

This time, her fingers fumbled over the buttons of her shirt as nerves seemed to take hold. Excitement of being alone with Gilbert again. The way he'd looked at her burned permanently in her mind as she pulled on her pants.

Hair in braids and trousers on, Anne stopped downstairs to fill their picnic basket with the snacks she'd made the night before. She smiled in response to Marilla's uncertain gaze, earning a thoughtful smile in return.

Anne met Gilbert just as he was leaving the house. He flashed her an innocent smile, but Anne swore she did not imagine the half-second of his gaze flicking over her with that dark look rising to his eyes again. Her heart pounded as she slipped her hand in his.

"You like plum puffs, right?" She asked, indicating the basket hanging from her free arm. When he turned towards her, the look was gone, replaced by a gentle one that was just as heartstring-tugging.

"Of course."

"Good." Anne replied, heart still pounding.

She loved how easy being with him was. It was as if they continued from exactly where they'd been over the holidays, and in extension, where they'd been from adolescence.

Their relationship—their courting as adults called it, the very word making Anne want to both blush and roll her eyes—it did not mean they were without the spirited things that drew them to one another in the first place.

Anne drilled Gilbert on his study habits, and then accused him of either possessing an inhuman ability to function on a lack of sleep, or just plain lying when he assisted he got in six hours of studying a day.

"I'd never lie to you." He flashed her another smile, this one less innocent, more teasing.

"Then I suppose I'll just have to try harder to beat you." Anne gave him a playful shove, her shoulder against his.

"We're at different schools, but you still want to compete with me?"

"There's just something in my soul which compels it." She leaned against his shoulder again, closing her eyes as the high-noon sun seemed to lull her with its warmth.

She blinked her eyes open at the feel of his hand tracing her face. Anne turned to him, feeling him brush sandwich crumbs from the corner of her mouth. He smiled at her, and Anne felt her heart race.

Throughout the walk through town and into the woods, followed by the _long _trek to their picnic spot, Anne felt only the comfort of his hand in hers. The way he smiled at her was only with the warmth of love.

But she was starting to see it now, hints of his true passion in the way his gaze seemed to burn into hers. It lingered on her when she wasn't looking. She could feel it burn into the side of her neck.

Anne looked back at him, He then turned away, blush lingering on his face, but Anne was not going to let it slide.

She remembered the way he'd kissed her, and she couldn't go without all of that for another second. Gilbert reached over for something from the basket, and Anne's hand shot out, wrapping firmly around his wrist.

"Anne—"

The seconds of near-silence were only filled by the distant call of birds and wind, and the pounding of her own heart. They then moved at the same time.

Anne kissed him, pulling him down by an insistent arm hooked around his shoulders, the other flat to his chest. Other than yesterday, she could not recall the last time they'd been alone to kiss like that.

Whether it was from the build of passion from seeing each other over the holidays—the lingering warmth of their touches in the cold, long gazes by the light of the fireplace—or it really was just from the pants, Anne didn't mind. She just wanted to feel it.

Her mind whirled with the sudden rush of it all. The touches that started soft and familiar—their hands linked, that slowly dissolved into uncharted waters—the way she let her fingers brush across his shoulders, down to the exposed swatch of skin at his chest.

How her fingers fumbled nervously at the buttons of his shirt, as she was desperate just to feel him in a way she'd always fantasized about, even if just for the briefest of seconds. She had to take advantage of their being alone, just the still Earth around them.

Gilbert's breath seemed to hitch as he pulled back just enough to breath. Anne's own breathing was shaky, yet she drew them in, knowing her lungs would protest if she didn't.

He seemed in deep contemplation, Anne realized. Reluctantly, her hands stilled on his skin, giving him a chance to clear his head, if he even could with the way their foreheads rested together, their breaths mingling.

It took her by surprise, the fierceness in which he kissed her. That hunger was back full force, as if he'd just lost an internal struggle against it.

Gilbert's pragmatism was something Anne had always admired, so opposite of her own tendency to rush into things. He always seemed to think every action ahead, calculating the risks before moving.

To have him without that, to feel an unbothered side of him that was simply giving into the sight of her in pants, it sent a flood of warmth through her.

She knew it was the pants now. She could feel his hand on her hip, his thumb lightly tracing over the fabric, hooking into the belt loop. It made her heart pound harder, her fingers tremble against his skin.

Anne couldn't help but let out the slightest sound at the feel of his hand. Gilbert then seemed to be purposely wanting to draw out more of those sounds, succeeding when he pulled her tongue into his mouth.

Anne pushed firmly on his shoulders, both opening his shirt and sending him sprawling back onto the blanket. Anne crawled on top of him, taking a moment to catch her breath and look down at him.

She tentatively touched her bottom lip with her tongue, wondering how there was no broken skin there with the way he'd been going at her. He stared up at her, something like awe on his face. And maybe disbelief at his own actions. Anne just smirked down at him, breaking into her own genuine look of lust.

The sunlight seemed to shine on him, his stark white shirt and skin. Anne reached down and touched him again. The very few times they'd been like this, never like _this, _but hot and heavy and alone, they all paled in comparison to this.

Anne's braids fell forward from her shoulders, landing on him as she leaned slowly forward, listening past the sounds of their breathing for anything else. But this meadow was so deep in the woods, so far from it all. She could only hear the sounds of nature.

That, and Gilbert's almost desperate growl as he pulled her down for another kiss. She dared shift against him, a foreign feeling sending waves of fire through her.

It was easy to tell herself they weren't doing anything too far. There were still so many layers between them, the pants just made it easy to feel everything as if there weren't.

Anne found herself silent, only able to take heavy shaking breaths in his ear. Gilbert was surprisingly louder, growling, though with plenty of gasps as if he were trying to hold it all back, to remain the calm and collected way he was in Anne's mind.

But she loved this version of him too. She told him as much, whispering it in his ear, as that's all her voice could do as she felt the building heat of their shifting bodies. It was strange and liberating for her to realize that, as the one on top, she controlled the speed.

Her body filled with the burst of flames and she found her voice in his name, somewhere between a scream and moan, pressed firmly into his neck. It was barely drowned out by his own groan, his hands still on her hips, fingers digging into the fabric there.

Then there was just the sound of heavy breathing once more. Anne laid against him completely now, chest to chest and feeling their pounding hearts. Sweat beaded on the back of her neck and she reluctantly rolled off of him, laying on the blanket and reaching for his hand.

"…I like twentieth century Anne." Gilbert said in a whisper.

"I forgot to do the farm boy voice." Anne replied, surprised at the dryness in her throat.

Gilbert just laughed.

The spent the rest of the afternoon in the meadow. They collected wildflowers, filling the basket where empty lunch dishes now were.

Anne even wound them into a wreath and placed it on Gilbert's head like a crown. He then insisted on making one for her too, though she had to coach him.

The hunger between them never really faded as the break went on. Even when Anne wore a dress for church. As he stole kisses from her, Anne realized maybe it was always there, no matter how she dressed.

Seeing Ms. Stacy in town when they were both in pants, followed by excited pointing and hugs of solidarity was a highlight.

Anne's spirits weren't dampened when it was all over. Even when it was time to go back to school, she tried to remain happy and hold onto the warmth of that week in her mind. It helped when Gilbert kissed her as she boarded the train.

"Anne?"

Anne looked up from her book to see Josie peering at the empty spot beside her. Though Diana took the seat across from her, there was plenty of room beside her if the train was full.

But then Anne saw what it was. Josie shyly shrugged off her coat and she and Diana exchanged excited smiles.

Josie Pye was wearing pants too.

"You look positively… modern." Anne said, sliding over.

"And I've found I don't care at all what boys think." Josie said, storing her luggage and sitting down beside her.

"You shouldn't." Anne blushed, turning back to her schoolbook. "But I think some boys are more progressive than they realize. They'll like it, they just have to get used to it."

And based on her own experience, that wouldn't take long at all.


End file.
